I Hope Mimi's is Around when I'M 84

We took our little Doodle-Heck old lady out for dinner on this, her 84th birthday. Basically, she didn't want to hear anything about her birthday, except for it allowed her to eat dessert (not that she ever deprives herself of it days that aren't her birthday, but appearances must be kept. She never eats sweets when out with us. Merely tucks the boxes and bags and tubs of things with the first ingredient "sugar" under the rolled oats in her shopping carts and pretends nobody ever saw anything.

I finally convinced her to have an 84th birthday brownie, which she took a bite of and declared that she simply could not go on, IT'S TOO MUCH and made Jesse take it so as to maintain the appearance of delicacy. But he didn't eat it, so she had him put it in her to-go box. Because sweets are only legally consumed when not in the presence of a handsome man. Or even un-handsome, who knows?

She freaked out a little bit when we STOLE the chrysanthemums RIGHT OFF THE TABLE until, 2 hours after I gave them two her, she finally realized that they were her birthday present from us. Then she said "well, I guess I'll just pop these right in the ground" only she never will. I don't think she will ever get that close to dirt again. I sure as hell won't be planting my birthday chrysanthemums in my back yard at that age. That's why I'll hire a cabana boy/gardener/male model. DUH. Because people totally have cabanas just hanging out at their house, waiting for boys to do whatever in the world a cabana boy is supposed to do besides look good for aged widows.

Here she is: Note: Jesse is not really that tall, and I am not normally that close-to-death looking, but I think I've already said more than enough about my recent brush with death by phlegm.

Also Note: Jesse's chest hair